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Hey dakkadakka, I was feeling creative and decided to try my hand at some creative writing. Let me know what you all think.

The sun of Draconis V reflected itself off of the bronze armor of the desert travelers incessantly. The light coupled with the suffocating heat were their constant companions, and would have been enough to kill a normal man within the first few hours of exposure. However, the men below, who were no longer men at all, had been marching in these conditions for three days now, and while tempers were at their breaking points, the armored figures felt no physical discomfort.

The being marching at the head of the formation finally gave voice to his dissatisfaction with their current situation. “Why are we on this God’s forsaken rock!?” raged sergeant Torvash. “Better yet, why are we out here patrolling this damnable desert like an enemy horde is about to descend upon the Lord Commanders position?” None of the nine Chaos Marines advancing around him had an answer, all of them remembering their arrival on the planet. They remembered, and felt unease.

The Blood Dragons Chaos marines had broken orbit four days ago, weapons spooled on their strike cruises, and ready to unleash death and ultimate damnation on all who stood before them. But there were no signaled challenges, no naval ships to greet them, not so much as a pilgrim ship. There was only silence to greet them. Still they pressed on reasoning that surely there would be enemies to be slaughtered below. Within minutes of entering the system, the Blood Dragons were orbiting the systems only populated world, making ready to lay waste to the planets largest city, Oreon. They would slaughter thousand in the name of chaos, and take what Lord Gorak had led them here for all in one fell swoop. Less than an hour later the stormbirds, and drop pods were sent screaming towards the surface.

The Marines remembered it well. It was always the same, the blood singing in their veins, the voices within whispering them promises of the violence to come…but this time was different. Torvash and his squad arrive via drop pod, and no sooner had their transport crashed into the ground then he was slamming the release on his harness and ordering his men to charge. He stomped down the release ramp, bolt pistol raised, power fist crackling, and the desire to kill pounding through every fiber of is being. But all of the would be targets were already dead.
Strewn across the streets and boulevards were bodies. Dozens…hundreds…thousands. One could not turn their head without seeing some form of mutilation, and it was mutilation. Such were the acts of desecration and depravity on the corpses around him, that Torvash, who had though himself rather worldly in the field of death, felt himself pausing momentarily both in awe and disgust at the scene before him. His reverie was suddenly interrupted by the crackle of the vox in his ear. A voice like whispering death, both booming yet soft at the same time inserted itself into the ear and soul of all who were listening. “This is Lord Commander Gorak, all squads report to the main courtyard highlighted on you tactical layout for further orders.” Torvash felt his lip curl back in hatred at the next voice to crackle in his ear. “Can we expect any resistance Lord?” questioned sergeant Skrall. There was a pause before Gorak responded. “No, there is nothing here.” And so it went. They reported to the courtyard and received their guard, or searching duties respectively. Gorak was searching for something, but only those within his inner circle, like Skrall though Torvash resentfully, knew what…

Torvash was still seething over the indignity of he, and his squad being sent out in one of the chapters rhinos to wander the desert. Only hours before they had abandoned the transport for two reasons. One they needed the remaining fuel for the return journey, and two there was nothing out here that they would need to put an armored wall between them. These thoughts were still swirling around in Torvashes head when he noticed that, not only had he and his quad passed into a rocky outcrop, but they had all adopted a combat ready stance. “Why have we stopped?” Torvash snarled at his second, Krull. “Sir” he responded, “There was a noise out in the rocks. It sounded like a small child possibly a girl…giggling. But that’s not possible. No mortal could survive in these conditions.” Then Korvash heard it too. It did indeed sound like the giggling of a little girl. He was still wondering how a mortal could be this far from the city, and debating the best way to hunt and kill it when the first marine died. There was a sound like metal smacking together, and then something hard bounced off of Korvashes chest. He looked down to inspect what it was, and immediately snapped his bolt pistol up, while activating his power fist. The object had been the head of one of his men, his body lay in a crumpled heap roughly twenty feet away, blood jetting sporadically from the stump of his neck as his twin hearts failed to acknowledge his death.

The giggle returned, and this time the Blood Dragons were ready. As the murderer danced out of the shadows of the rocks around them, they opened fire on their assailant. With a shriek of what sounded like pleasure the figure collapsed. Korvash slowly approached their assailant, wishing to see what had decapitated one of the maelstroms finest. At first all he could make out was that it appeared very lithe and most likely feminine due to the presence of a single breast. The similarities stopped there however.

This creature standing at its full height would have been able to look him in the eye, something no mortal had been able to do for close to three hundred years. Its legs were bent back the wrong way, and ended in claws instead of feet, and its arms had large pincers instead of hands. Most disturbingly though, its hair if it could even be called such, appeared to be a fleshy growth cascading around its shoulders. The creature was still moaning in ecstasy at the sensations death in the mortal plane brought it when it dissolved on the wind. “Daemon’s of the pleasure god? Here? Why?” Korvash asked himself aloud. No matter he thought, Lord Gorak must be informed…this would explain the scene that had greeted them in the city three days before. Korvash activated his vox and tried to raise the city. “Sergeant Korvash to command, daemon presence encountered, possible attack imminent.” Static was his only response. He tried once more to no avail. He paused to think for a minute. In that silence his men stood sentinel ready for another attack, and wary after the fate of one of their number. In the silence Korvash could hear more giggling, and even sadistic laughter. He made his decision. “Blood Dragons! Fall back to the rhino, we must inform Lord Gorak of these daemon’s.!” And that’s when they attacked.

They came in a wave of dancing, giggling, and pirouetting flesh. For miles around in the empty desert the concussive bang of bolters could be heard as they blew daemons off their feet, before the charge was completed and battle was joined.

Nice...
Is there more?
There doesn't need to be since it ends well but there is an opening for a bit more if you felt that way inclined.